I pulled into the parking lot at the end of a long, difficult day and  I quickly found an empty spot fairly close to the store entrance.  It was a small victory in an otherwise disastrous day.   I made a hasty exit from my car barely noticing anything around me.  My mind was a million miles away.

As I stopped to grab a grocery cart, my attention was drawn to a car parked next to the cart return.  The little red car had certainly seen better days.  The body was dented, and the paint was scratched and fading.  The front bumper barely held on and would have surely fallen to the ground were it not for the assistance of several bungee cords and a good amount of duct tape.

Frankly, I knew exactly how it felt; and looking at the shabby little car made me sad.  I don’t usually peek into strange, parked cars, but I cautiously glanced in the passenger side window as I made my way past.  What I saw there was nothing  I had expected.  The inside of the car looked nothing like the outside.  In fact, it was clean and tidy.  No leftover big gulp cups or crumbled burger wrappers carelessly tossed onto the floor.  No crumbs or stains on the upholstery.  I stopped and stared.  (Probably longer than I should have.) It occurred to me that even though the car was tattered and beaten on the outside, the inside could still be tidy and clean. Spotless even.  And isn’t that what really counts?   The world can and will take it’s toll on us.  Life is tough. Being a parent is hard.  Don’t get me wrong, the good times are out-of-this-world amazing, but the hard times are well, hard.  With help, we learn to work through the bad times with our head held high and our integrity intact.  The world can’t touch what’s on the inside….unless we let it.

This little car might be battered and worn, but it was plain to see that someone still cared about it.  It was loved by somebody.  It didn’t take long for me to appreciate the metaphor that had been lovingly placed in my path that day.  This little car was a lot like me; tired and worn from the wallopings life had been sending my way.  Nerves frazzled like exposed electrical wires waiting to spontaneously combust, and tears always at the ready.

Yep, I was a mess.  But the parts that really matter, the stuff on the inside, could be whatever I wanted them to be.  I get to choose how I react.  I get to decide how I will handle the little snags and big obstacles life sends my way.   With prayer and faith I can keep going.  I can take on the chaos of life and make of it whatever I choose.

I’ve thought about this car for a week now, and it always reminds me that I can do this.  I’m going to be okay. I might even be great.  And if that’s your car up there, I think we should be friends.

Last weekend I attended (and volunteered at) the Breathing Space retreat.  It was held at Daybreak, Utah . (It is located near South Jordan, Herriman and Riverton for those who haven’t been there.)

I didn’t know what to expect with Daybreak or with Breathing Space for that matter!  I just knew there would be lots of great people there and I wanted to participate.

I will be sharing more about Breathing Space in subsequent posts, but for now, I want to share a little video about the Daybreak Community

Stay tuned!

What in the world would you do with 35,000 pencils? Or that same amount of notebooks, rulers, crayons & erasers?

I’m here at BYU Women’s Conference and got a behind the scenes look at the service projects they are working on this year. Each year nearly 16,000 women gather at BYU for 2 days of spiritual refueling and service.  Yes, service.  Last year they put together thousands of hygiene kits which I’m sure have helped people all over the world.  This year, however, the fruits of their labors are staying just a little closer to home.

Tomorrow, Women’s Conference attendees will work together to assemble 35,000 backpacks filled with school supplies. These backpacks will be distributed to Salt Lake, Utah County and Davis School Districts.  The individual districts will then distribute them to the students in their schools who need a little something extra to help them start the school year off on the right foot.

Over 600 youth and young adult volunteers have been working for the past 2 days getting everything set up and tomorrow the volunteer floodgates will open and a massive assembly line effort will commence.

I can’t wait!

This is such a great reminder of the blessings we receive when we listen…

I have a GIVEAWAY going on over at HotSpots!

You NEED one of these bags. For reals.

And also, you’ll get to read my most recent embarrassing moment. *bonus*

Come on over to the 1940 Census Blog where I’m posting today…..

The following text conversation took place this morning.  For reals.

Mom: Why did you come home during class today?

Son: I had to grab something.

Mom: A little more info please?

Son: I forgot underwear this morning so I asked my teacher if I could leave for a few minutes and he said that’s fine as long as I hurry.

Mom: How do you FORGET underwear???

Son: I switched pants and left my underwear rolled up in the pocket of the pants on my bed.

Mom: Sorry, but that still doesn’t really clear anything up…..

Given that I have three teenage sons, there will likely be many more conversations like this. I’ll be sure to keep you updated.

I’ve always loved to go to the top floor of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building (the old Hotel Utah) and look out the glass windows at the views.  To the East, you have the lights of the avenues as they wind through the foothills and up the mountain side.  On the West is a breathtaking view of the city and the Salt Lake Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints.

With such an up-close view of the temple you begin to comprehend not just the majesty of the building but what a massive undertaking it was for the early saints who settled the Salt Lake Valley. There are numerous accounts of the hardships faced and sacrifices made during the building of the temple.  There are tales of the difficulty involved in bringing the huge blocks of stone, (quartz monzonite, similar to granite) 20 miles by wagon, from the quarries southeast of the city in Little Cottonwood Canyon.

We see the finished product, but how often do we think of those who sacrificed so much during the 40 year construction period?  History fascinates me.  But it’s not so much the dates I love to learn as it is the stories.  I’m interested in learning about the ins and outs of daily life for those who came before me.  I believe I will meet them some day and I want to know them. Really know them.

When I took the photo above, I was at a dinner for the RootsTech genealogy conference in Salt Lake City.  Family Search held a “Media Event” for invited bloggers and other media people who would be attending the conference.  They shared some exciting news that will help a lot of people searching for information about their ancestors.  The 1940 Census is being released on April 2, 2012.  The cool thing about this record is that most of us KNOW someone who is in that census!  My grandparents are in it.  My husband’s grandparents are in it.

Family Search is looking for 150,000 people to help “index” the names written on those census papers. Indexing the records makes them searchable and available to everyone who needs them. Don’t be scared. Indexing is easy. You don’t even have to do any research.  In fact, I taught my teenage sons how to do it last Sunday afternoon. One of them has already indexed 162 names!

It’s a Worldwide Service Project. And you can help!

Please go to www.The1940Census.com and sign up.

Then, leave me a comment so I can give you a virtual high-five!